The Tragedy of the Wolf
by Love4lupinalways
Summary: Lyall Lupin was a Dark Creatures expert. One day at work, he is called upon to make a judgement that will have lasting consequences.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1: An Offense So Great**

January 29, 1964

"Lupin, we need your opinion here, mate," came a voice from the doorway. Lyall Lupin looked up from his dark creatures research, his eyes blinking rapidly as he brought his mind up to speed.

"What was that, Zander?" he asked.

"The aurors have brought a man in for questioning over those muggle children who were mauled to death a few days ago. He was found with a wolf pack, and was the only one they were able to catch. He swears he's only a muggle bum. A… a hobo, or some such thing, was what he said. We thought you might have some insight, as we aren't completely sure that he isn't a muggle," said Zander Michaels, a clerk in the Magical Law Enforcement division.

"Oh. Oh, sure, Zander. I will be along shortly." Lyall Lupin marked his place in his notes and gathered up a folder labeled Werewolf Registry and his glasses, and jogged down the hallway to the interview rooms. Pausing at the door, Lupin took in the figures in the room. Randolf Drone, a wizard defense magistrate, Zander, and an old auror whose name Lupin didn't know sat with their backs to the door. Across from them, a scruffy, tattered man hunched in a chair, his hands below the table, his eyes flicking quickly around the room.

He was dressed in a ripped and stained overcoat in the muggle style, whose buttons were missing. Underneath, he wore a stained blue shirt, and on his head sat a battered, filthy bowler hat that had once been brown. The man's hair was long, greasy and grey, and hung haphazardly over his ears and down to his shoulders. His jowls were covered in rough, grey fuzz, and his eyebrows were surprisingly bushy. His nose had been broken at least once at some point, and had been poorly set, giving his face a crooked look. His skin was pockmarked and scarred, with one old, deep furrow slashing through his eyebrow and down the side of his face. As he watched the man's eyes flit from face to face, Lupin noticed something that had him bursting through the door.

"This creature is no muggle!" he shouted. "This "muggle", as you call him, is a werewolf!" As he spoke, Lupin's hands quickly flipped open the folder he had brought with him. "What is your name, wolf?" Lupin growled harshly, his eyes burning into those of the man at the table.

The man straightened his shoulders and sat back against the chair, showing himself to be very tall and broad-shouldered. He clasped his scarred and gnarled hands together on the table, and settled back like he was going to tell a story. He regarded Lupin with a small, almost imperceptible smirk dancing about his lips, and replied "Greyback. My name is Fenrir Greyback, sir, and I am no werewolf. Werewolves are creatures in monster stories told by nannies and worried mums to frighten their children into bed at night," he said in a soft, even voice. Greyback's eyes met Lupin's, and once again, so quickly Lupin almost missed it, they glowed golden, and then flashed back to brown.

"Liar!" shouted Lupin. "You lie, sir, you ARE a werewolf. Your eyes prove it! And so will this registry. Greyback. Greyback. You must be here somewhere. Greyback," he muttered to himself as his fingers flipped pages. He was so engrossed in the search for Greyback's face staring back at him that he didn't hear Randolf Drone's attempts to get his attention.

"Lupin", he tried, softly. "Lupin!" a little louder the second time. "LUPIN!" Randolf shouted, gripping Lupin's arm to get his attention. By then, Lyall had flipped the last page, and no Greyback was registered in the Werewolf book. No ratty, disfigured face matching the man across the table looked back at him from the pages. Lupin's mind was working furiously to process the lack of Greyback's registration, and missed what Drone was saying. "What was that, sir?" he asked.

"I said, Greyback isn't in the registry. He isn't a werewolf. He's just a muggle. Look at the man, Lyall. He's just a muggle." Drone gestured across the table at Greyback, so Lupin followed his hand with his gaze. It was just a flicker, again, but when Lupin's eyes met Greyback's, they were gold.

"There! There, do you see? His eyes! His eyes change from brown to gold. Werewolves have golden eyes. Golden eyes, whiskers, look at his teeth! I assure you, you will find his teeth to be yellowed and sharpened to points. Did you check his teeth? Or his nails? Look at his nails! With that length, and their pointed, yellow tips? His nails are shaped like claws!" By the time Lupin finished his loud assessment, he was panting.

"Lupin," Randolf said, "Lupin, you're being absurd and incredibly rude. The man claims to be a… a hobo- of course he has whiskers! When and how is he to shave? Same with his teeth and nails. Proper hygiene is nearly impossible when one is a vagrant. And his eyes, Lupin, his eyes are brown. They have been since he was picked up; they have been the entire time he has been in this room. They are BROWN, Lupin. Not gold. Brown. Mr. Greyback is not a werewolf, If he were, the proof would be in your hands, in that registry you brought down with you. You owe Mr. Greyback an apology, and once you have done so, you will leave this room and return to your office. I will speak with you about your outburst later."

Lyall, knowing what he had seen, stared at Mr. Drone with a dumbfounded expression on his face. He knew the "muggle" was a werewolf, he had studied dark creatures. He knew the signs. That was why they had asked his opinion. And now, they were ignoring it. Apologize to the creature? Apologize? The man was off! Lupin looked again at Greyback, taking in the scarred hands and face, and knew that if the man disrobed, he would have similar marks covering the rest of his body.

"Randolf, please," he pleaded. "This man is a werewolf, I'm sure of it. Hold him, just until the full moon. I assure you, I'm right. If you hold him, and he transforms, you will have your answer. It's only twenty four hours. One day, Randolf. Just one day, surely that is a small enough price to pay to be sure? Please, sir. Just one day" Lupin begged, praying that Drone would agree with him.

"Lyall, I just can't do that. I'm sorry. The man has done nothing wrong. He is not a registered werewolf, he isn't even a wizard! He wasn't found with a wand, or wearing robes, or holding any other magical effects. He didn't even know we wizards exist. I have no cause to hold a muggle; it is against our laws, as you well know." Turning to the man across the table, he said "Mr. Greyback, I sincerely apologize for what you have been subjected to today. You are free to go; Mr. Michaels here will see you out." Drone leaned toward the young clerk and whispered something in his ear. Lupin was sure Randolf was reminding Zander to wipe the man's memory, as wizard secrecy was of the utmost importance, and he believed Greyback to be a muggle.

"No! No, you can't let him go, Randolf, please!" Lupin shouted. "Please sir, it's just one day! The full moon is in just twenty-four hours! If you let this man go, sir, and he is a werewolf… Werewolves are scum, sir! They are evil, right down to their souls. They deserve nothing more than death! If Greyback here is a werewolf, and we let him go, how many people will suffer for it? We have a duty to protect every one, wizards and muggles alike, from the scourge of werewolves." Lupin was gripping Drone's arm, pleading with him, a look of terror on his face, and nausea pooling in his belly. All the while, Greyback sat across from him, his hands folded on the table, showing no outward offence except for a small tightening of his facial features.

"That's enough, Lupin!" Randolf shouted, as he wrenched his arm away from his colleague. "You need to leave this room, immediately. I will speak with you later." Drone's face had hardened, his eyes narrowed as he glared at Lupin, who was too busy glaring across the table to notice.

Lyall opened his mouth once more. "I beg you sir, just twenty-four hours. If we let this man go free, and he harms or kills someone…." his voice trailed off.

"Get out Lupin, now. Return to your office, and take that registry with you." Randolf's tone was harsh, and Lyall knew he had lost. Accepting his defeat, he gathered his folder and moved slowly towards the door, his eyes never leaving Greyback's face. As his hand twisted the doorknob, he said one last thing. "I know what you are, monster." He saw that his words made an impact as he stepped into the hallway. Greyback's face tightened, his eyes shrank to small, golden slits. His hands clenched into tight fists, his lips pursed and a wrinkle furrowed itself in Greyback's brow, but he said nothing. Lyall Lupin trudged slowly down the hallway, a feeling of dread taking root deep in his belly.

Lupin returned to his office, but was unable to resume his research. Instead, he sat at his desk and replayed the last half hour in his mind. He knew, without a doubt, that he had just made a very dangerous enemy.

"Mr. Greyback, again, I am so very sorry that you were subjected to Mr. Lupin's outbursts today. Mr. Michaels, Mr. Daily and I do not share Mr. Lupin's conviction. We do not believe that you are anything more than what you say you are. Mr. Michaels here will escort you out," Randolf Drone said. Drone and Daily stood and left the room, Drone heading to Lupin's office, and Daily back to his own. Zander stood, and held an arm out, directing Greyback out into the hallway. Together, they walked to the lifts, and then traveled down to level 7 and the exit. Zander and Greyback exited the building at the red telephone booth, and Zander headed into the alley next door, saying "This way, sir. Follow me, please."

Zander never spoke again. Greyback didn't need a wand to cast a brain scrambling spell. Zander didn't even know what hit him. He was found several hours later, behind the muggle garbage lining the alleyway. There was no sign of violence on his body, no clue as to what befell him. The next day, when Lyall Lupin heard that his young friend was in St. Mungo's, unconscious and unable to tell anyone what happened, Lyall knew. He knew deep in his heart that Fenrir Greyback was responsible.

Lupin looked at the photos on his desk. His wife, Hope, a muggle, whom he had fallen in love with after chasing away a Boggart in a forest several years ago; and their young son, Remus, who would be five soon. The pit that had formed in his stomach the day before after his encounter with Greyback, was still there. And he knew now that that pit would never go away unless Fenrir Greyback did. Lyall's fears were for his family, for his happy, intelligent son, and his beautiful, loving wife. He knew deep in his heart that Greyback was not a creature to take an insult lightly.


	2. The Full Moon Approaches

February 26, 1964

The full moon was fast approaching, and given the events at the Ministry the month previous, Lyall Lupin was waiting nervously for the next night. He had spent hours over the last month buried in the library at the Ministry, reading anything he could on werewolves. He knew they transformed for one night only, on the full moon, and that when they were transformed, their bites would have disastrous consequences. According to his research, most adults who were attacked didn't survive. Children, however, were most often turned; they were infected with lycanthropy and no longer considered human. There was no cure for lycanthropy, and those afflicted were cast out, forced to live on the edge of society. As a result, they grew into hardened, evil, soulless creatures, much like he had accused Fenrir Greyback of being only a month ago.

During his research, Lupin had learned of a nameless werewolf who seemed to thrive on spreading the incurable virus to as many as possible, especially small children. At every full moon for the last several years, at least one child, often times more, was attacked. About half of them died. The other half… the other half realized the full impact of what happened a month later, at the next full moon. Lyall had read countless descriptions of transformations written by loved ones- parents, siblings, friends, all of whom had watched a child they cared for grow and stretch, and change to become a hideous, uncontrollable beast. The heartbreak of those forced to watch was palpable, and terrifying. Lyall could feel the fear coming through the words on the parchment. He was nervous for his son, his young, fierce and loving boy who would be five in just a few short weeks. Of all the reports he read regarding attacked children, the age range of three to six had been the most frequently victimized. And Lyall knew, even though the wolf wasn't named, who had been targeting such young souls.

Fenrir Greyback was an unregistered werewolf, Lyall was sure of it. That day at the ministry when Auror Daily had brought a muggle "hobo" in to be questioned, Lyall was sure of the man's proclivity. There was something about his eyes, the way they flashed golden when no one but Lupin was looking at him. The man had sat there calmly, not reacting or responding in any way when Lupin was screaming at him, accusing him of monstrous acts. A cold feeling had stolen over him as he pleaded with Randolf Drone to keep Greyback confined until the full moon, and he had realized that his pleas were falling on deaf ears. A pit had formed in his stomach that day, and if anything, it had only gotten deeper and darker in the days since. Now, the child-hunting werewolf had a face and a name. If it truly was Greyback attacking those children for the sheer intent of passing on his disease, Lupin knew that soon, Greyback would come for his revenge. And he knew, deep in his heart that his revenge would involve Remus.

After work that day, Lyall had gone home to his family, terrified of the enemy he had made. He had watched through the window as Remus came running towards the door when he heard the crack of his father's arrival. He had watched as his wife's eyes followed the boy, a soft smile on her face, as excited as her son was to see Lyall. Before he opened the door, he had taken care to plaster a smile on his lips, not wanting to worry his wife or frighten his son by the thoughts he was sure were written across his face.

Hope was a muggle. And while Lyall had told her things over the years they had been together, she understood little of what it meant to be part of the magical world. To Hope, werewolves and boggarts were creatures of fairy tales. She accepted that magic existed, Lyall could prove that. Even Remus, young as he was, showed signs of magical ability. Magic, Hope could understand in certain ways. What she was ignorant of was the dark side of the wizard world.

She didn't know about the evil creatures that existed, the wizards who favored and practiced the Dark Arts, the curses and hexes that could injure or kill someone without leaving a mark. She didn't know about the prejudice against muggles that existed among many of the "pure blood" wizarding families. Lyall and Remus were the only experience she had with the wizarding world. Even though they were married, Lyall had tried to keep that part of his life as separate from Hope as he could. He hadn't wanted to frighten her. And Remus was only four; they had time yet before his education began. He had time to explain things still. Or at least, he had planned on having time.

Now, a month later and nearly at the full moon, Lupin had yet to tell his wife of his encounter with Greyback. He didn't know how to explain it. How could he tell his wife that the monsters in Remus's fairy tale books were real? How could he tell her that he had provoked one of the beasts, and that he was afraid for their lives? It had been almost a month- the full moon was tomorrow. He had kept the secret, afraid of her reaction, afraid to lose her and his son.

Of course she had noticed; she was his wife, how could she not? He was anxious and jumpy, especially at night. When he was home, his eyes often had a faraway look in them. He had skipped dinners, and even stopped reading Beedle the Bard stories to Remus, so consumed was he in looking for a solution. Every minute he had, he was digging through his dark arts and dark creatures books, looking for a way to stop Greyback, a way to protect his family. He had begun casting charms on his home- enchanted locking spells on all the windows to prevent entry, cave inimicum to alert him if anyone came near, protego horribilis, a dark-arts specific shield charm and fianto duri, a shield spell strengthener. He had taken all the precautions he could. The full moon was one night away, there was nothing left to do but wait.

The next morning, Lyall woke with a nauseous feeling in his belly. Beside him, Hope still lay sleeping, a soft, serene expression on her face. For a moment, he was grateful. He was grateful that she could still feel that peace. Watching her, he promised himself that if there was any way to keep her from knowing what he had done, he would do so.

As he swung his legs sideways to get out of bed, he bumped another form. His young son, Remus, was tucked in by his feet, his small, brown head resting against his mother's ankle. Gazing fondly at the sleeping boy, he wasn't surprised when the nausea threatened to explode. He scrambled from the bed and barely made it to the loo. He was able to cast a silencing charm before his stomach turned itself out. Thankful that the two sleeping bodies behind him didn't hear, he dressed quickly and quietly before heading down to the kitchen.

A glance at the calendar Hope insisted on hanging next to the window showed him that it was indeed the twenty-seventh, and that tonight, the moon would be full. With a short flick of his wand, the teapot filled itself with water and settled on the heated burner on the stove, and his gaze drifted towards the window. It was still dark, the sun not yet breaking over the forest that surrounded his home, and he peered into the stillness, hoping his family was safe, and that nothing and no one was lurking among the trees. His gaze shifted, skimming along the tree-line, looking for any telltale movement. Seeing nothing and hearing the whistle of the teapot, he turned away from the window. As his moved towards the stove, the branches directly across from the kitchen window wavered, even though there was no breeze to push them. Had Lyall glanced over his shoulder, he would have caught a flash of gold as the sun reflected on two angry eyes watching the house.


	3. A Breakfast Revelation

February 27, 1964

Remus Lupin was jarred awake abruptly when his father bolted from the bed. He blinked owlishly as his father scurried from the room, decided there was nothing to be frightened of, and wormed his way up towards the newly vacant pillow beside his mother. He snuggled down into the warmth of the bed, and drifted quickly back to sleep. An hour later, his mother began to stir, nudging Remus with an elbow as she stretched. He opened his eyes, blinked a few times, and looked into his mother's softly smiling face. Her blond hair was sleep tousled and her eyes were still a deep, dark emerald, the color they were when she was very tired or newly wakened. Remus thought she was the most beautiful person in the world, and gave her a sleepy smile in return. Her hand slipped out from under the covers and cupped the back of his head gently.

"Good morning, sweet boy," she whispered, a soft smile playing at her lips. "How do you feel about pancakes for breakfast? With pumpkin syrup and sweet cream and some orange juice? I'll even let you help me squeeze it," she said. The small boy's face lit up, and he nodded enthusiastically. Leaning forward, he bumped his nose to his mother's and mumbled "I love you, mum," before scampering off the bed to change. The soft sound of bare feet padding away echoed back as Hope swung her legs to the side of the bed.

"Now where did Lyall get to this morning," she wondered to herself. She vaguely remembered his dash to the toilet, but still had been nearly asleep, and dismissed it when she didn't hear anything. Now, with the sun shining in through the window, and a small boy to feed, her brain was beginning to stir. She grabbed a robe from the hook by the door, slipped her feet into her husband's slippers, and made her way down the stairs to find him.

Lyall, awake for an hour now, and with two pots of tea in him, was seated at the table, his eyes glazed in that faraway look she had become so used to lately, as he looked out the window towards the trees. He was so engrossed in his thoughts he didn't hear Hope calling his name. He startled a bit when her hand slipped around his shoulder, and nearly dropped his mug. Some of the now cold tea splashed over the rim, dripping down his hand and into his lap. With a flick of his wand, the tea was syphoned back into the mug, and he set it down on the table before turning to smile sadly at his wife. His hand reached back to cup hers, and she leaned a hip against him. The feeling of her body pressed against his was comforting, and he sighed and leaned his head against her.

"Darling, I wish you would tell me what's going on," Hope said, gazing fondly at her husband. "We've been married long enough that I can tell when something is bothering you. You've been jumpy and sad for weeks now, I wish you would share. Maybe I can help." Bending down, she planted a soft kiss on the crown of his head, much like the ones she bestowed on Remus when he stood still long enough to let her. She stood straight again, and ran her fingers from one shoulder to the other as she walked behind her husband to start the breakfast she had promised her son.

That simple, loving touch broke something inside Lyall. Forgetting his before-dawn promise to keep this from her, he turned to watch her walk away.

"Hope," he said. Just one word, said so softly, so sadly, stopped her in her tracks. As she turned to look back at her husband, he slowly stood. Stepping away from the chair, he reached out for her hand, clasping it in his own, ice cold fingers gripping hers. "Hope, I need to tell you something," he said. "Please understand, I didn't know. I didn't mean to do this, and I don't know that anything will happen, but I need to warn you, just in case it does…"

Before he could finish, a brown-haired tornado burst into the room, red shirt half buttoned, brown corduroy pants wrinkled, and one sock missing. Remus hadn't yet brushed his hair, and it stood up in spikes in all directions. When his eyes met his father's, he gave a shout and launched himself at Lyall.

"Papa! Mum said we can have pancakes for breakfast! And I get to help her squeeze the juice! And there's sweet cream! Papa, have breakfast with me, please?" Remus's large brown eyes latched onto Lyall's darker ones, and father regarded son with a feeling of love so powerful it caused his heart to thump painfully in his chest. "Of course, lad, pancakes sound wonderful. Why don't I help your mum get everything out while you brush your hair, and find your other sock. And then when you're done, you can come back and I will help you both squeeze the juice, ok?" Remus nodded his head so hard his hair flopped into his eyes, and took off for the stairs. Lyall watched the boy run off with a small smile on his face. Only when the boy was out of sight did he turn to face his wife again.

Hope was regarding him with a stern, wary expression on her face. She didn't say anything, merely watched him as he struggled with how to tell her. "Hope, something happened at work a few weeks ago," and he told her quickly about Zander asking for his help, and the "muggle" the aurors had brought in. She had known about the dead children, the Daily Prophet was delivered to their house every day and she had seen the headline but not read the article. She listened as he described the man's appearance and explained his perceptions, only stopping him when he said the man was surely a werewolf.

"Werewolf? Lyall, werewolves aren't real. They're creatures of nightmares and fairy tales. You know, that Red Riding Hood story I've told Remus, about the little girl who goes to see her grandmother and instead it's a werewolf who wants to eat her? Lyall? They're just fairy tale creatures, aren't they?" By the time she finished, her voice was shaky, her cheeks blotched and her eyes fearful, as she saw the truth on her husband's face. "Lyall, you don't mean to tell me you provoked one of these creatures, do you? Lyall?" Still waiting for his reassurance, Hope stepped towards the table and collapsed into a chair. "Lyall?" She was nearly shrieking now, understanding that his silence confirmed her fears.

Hope was still staring at her husband, a look of shock on her face, when Remus bounded back into the room. He was a perceptive boy- it didn't take long before he realized his parents were upset. Looking from one to the other, he stayed close to the stairs, unsure of what had happened, but knowing he didn't want any part of whatever had made them so sad. Neither his mum nor his papa had noticed him yet, and he didn't say anything, because he didn't want to draw their attention to him. He slowly backed up towards the steps, climbing as quietly as he could before he sat down out of sight a few risers up. The small boy scooted towards the wall, and hunched his shoulders as he cocked his head, listening hard for when his parents spoke again.

"Hope…" Lyall's voice was soft, nearly a whisper, and it was a tone Remus had never heard before. He thought his father sounded quite sad, and there was something else, something he couldn't quite understand. He heard a scrape, and then his mother's name again, and realized his father had taken a step towards his mother.

"Don't!" One word, said in a voice so cold and stiff Remus didn't recognize it. "Don't you dare come near me right now, Lyall," his mother hissed. Remus had to strain to catch the last words. As his mother spoke, her voice became softer, but no less cold and it frightened the boy. He scooted up a couple more steps, eager to hide from whatever had made his mother so angry. He felt a little safer with the distance, but he also realized that now he really couldn't hear what they were saying. Both his mother and his father had dropped their voices, remembering that a young boy expecting pancakes could burst in at any moment. Staying where he was seemed safest, so Remus waited, occasionally catching a few words as his parents continued to argue.

"Quiet, Hope, he'll hear," said his father.

"I don't bloody CARE if he hears, Lyall!" came his mother's louder than intended response. Remus's interest was piqued- who else could "he" refer too? There was no one else in their home; it was just his small family. Feeling braver once he realized the conversation was about him in some way, Remus slowly made his way down the stairs. He stopped on the last one, wedged himself closer to the wall and listened some more.

"A werewolf, Lyall. A WEREWOLF! And you provoked him? What could you possibly have been thinking! A werewolf!" His mother's voice was angry- angrier and colder than Remus had ever heard it in his short life, and he was suddenly afraid. Remus was only four (almost five!), and his mother always told him that he was more mature than other children his age. The small boy was proud of that, so instead of listening, he tried to keep himself calm by remembering the stories his mum read to him at night.

Nothing was more pleasant than snuggling into his big warm bed, clutching the teddy his father had given him, and listening to his mother's soft voice tell him story after story until his eyes drifted closed. One story in particular scared him more than the rest, though. It was a story about a little girl named Red who went to see her granny. Whenever his mum started that story, Remus pictured a girl a little older than himself, dressed in a bright red hat and red coat, skipping her way along the path. "How fun it must be to be that free," he thought to himself, "able to go visiting whenever he wanted, no hands to hold to stay safe." The more he repeated the story in his head, the faster his heart beat- when the girl got to her grandmother's house, a wolf would be waiting there.

Remus was terrified of wolves- the picture in the book was very scary. The Big Bad Wolf was large and gray, and even though it was dressed in an old lady's clothes, Remus was still nervous when his mother got to that page. The wolf in the book had a shaggy, gray head with a long snout and black nose. He could see all the sharp, white teeth; especially the big ones that mum called "fangs". Those scared him the most. They hung low over the wolf's lower lip, and looked as sharp as the knife that papa used to cut the Christmas ham last year.

Remus tried to remember more of the picture that scared him so badly. As he thought hard, the wolf's eyes popped into his head. He could see that they were green, but not the pretty dark green like his mum's. They were a cold, light green, like a stormy sky, and he could see little dots gold within the green. They were narrow, and gave the wolf in the book a very sneaky and angry look. Just picturing the page made Remus's heart race, and he felt cold thinking about it. The boy was dragged out of the pages of his mother's book when he heard her voice again.

"Lyall, I want to take Remus. I want to go and stay with my parents. If what you said is true, it's not safe for our son to be here! Tomorrow is the full moon! Werewolves come out on the full moon, right? Lyall, please! Please let me go. We'll come back in a couple days. He will be safe then, won't he?" His mother was pleading, her voice had changed. It was uneven and shaky, and it sounded like she was crying.

Remus decided he had been away long enough, and backed up a few steps. He ran down loudly, making sure his parents heard him. He jumped off the last step and landed with a sharp thud. Careful to keep his face settled, he asked "Can I help with the juice, mummy? You said I could," hoping to distract his parents. The charm of the boy worked. His mother smiled at him through the tears she quickly wiped away, and his father reached a hand out to tousle his hair.

"Of course, lad," Lyall said with a sad smile. "Let's get to it." Lyall herded his son outside and headed out towards the small, magical orchard behind their home. Before leaving the porch, Lyall risked one last glance at his wife. Hope was still standing near the counter, her face white and he watched as a single tear rolled down her cheek. Lyall's heart broke then. He knew the safest place for Remus was home, but he couldn't help but wish he could grant his wife's request and allow her to take the boy to his muggle relatives for a couple days. Lyall was afraid that one of his worst fears had come true- his wife couldn't look at him. She understood the dangers of his world now, and Lyall was terrified that he would lose her.

After the breakfast was cooked and the small family sat around their dining table, Lyall looked once more at his wife. When their eyes met, Hope tried to resume their earlier argument. Lyall, however, refused to discuss anything with his wife while their son was in the same room, regardless of the looks she kept shooting him at the table. He had managed to eat a few bites of the pumpkin pancakes, but that was only because he didn't want his son to be disappointed.

Remus was an uncommonly perceptive child and he had sat quietly, watching his parents while eating his breakfast. Lyall wasn't sure what, if anything, the boy had heard, but given Remus's lack of exuberance in devouring his favorite breakfast, he wouldn't be surprised if the boy had heard more than he could understand. Alternating between watching his son and his wife, who was nudging pancake bits around her plate, Lyall found he didn't have much of an appetite left. Forcing down a couple more bites and a slug of orange juice, he rose from the table and put his dishes in the sink.

As he passed by his wife, he bent to kiss her on the cheek. "I'm sorry, Hope. We'll talk more when I come home for lunch," he whispered, before brushing her damp cheek with his lips. He tasted the salt of her tears, and wished he could stay with her today, wished he could explain to her what he had done to protect them all, wished he could make her understand that his family meant everything to him. His conscience tugged at him- "you could have kept your mouth shut, fool! You could have checked the registry and seen the man wasn't there, and kept your mouth shut. Instead, you antagonized him, you called him names, and you know damn well you made an enemy for life that day", he thought to himself, as he sighed.

With a last, quick squeeze of his wife's shoulder, he bent to hug his son. Remus threw his arms around his father's neck and squeezed as hard as his nearly five-year-old arms could, and smacked a loud kiss on Lyall's cheek. "I love you, papa," he said.

His son's sweet voice pulled at Lyall's heart all over again, and when he wrapped his arms around him, he stood, bringing the boy with him for a full body hug. His arms tightened, and poor Remus coughed, trying to get enough air into his little lungs. "I love you too, lad. You be good for your mother today, and stay close to home, aye?" he said, his voice gruff with emotion. Remus pulled back and nodded his head.

"I will papa, I promise." Remus's face was so solemn that Lyall had no doubt the boy had heard more than he should have earlier. With a last quick squeeze, he set the boy down, grabbed his briefcase, and left the house.


	4. A Confrontation

Lyall Lupin arrived home for lunch, dreading the conversation he knew was coming. He had been unable to focus on anything at work, and his boss had noticed. Mr. Finnegan had called him into the office a short while ago for a meeting.

"Lupin, you seem… off, today. You've been staring at the same report for hours, and I don't think you have so much as dotted an "I" today. Your mind is obviously not here. I can't have that." Finnegan's face was stern, and Lupin felt shame as he listened to the lecture. Even while battling his fears the last month, his work had never suffered. To be caught daydreaming, as Hope was fond of saying, was mortifying. Any other time, Lupin would have apologized, gone back to his desk, and kicked into overdrive (a popular muggle saying he had grown enamored with over the years). But today, today of all days, he could hardly look his boss in the face.

"Sir," he began. And then he realized that he really had no idea how to explain to Finnegan about his fears. Finnegan had been told about the incident with Greyback, shortly after Randolf Drone had left Lupin's office that fateful day. Finnegan had called Lyall in, and nearly suspended him for a week without pay because of his outburst. Only Lupin's work ethic had saved him- no one else could get through as many dark creatures reports as he could. Finnegan had been angrier than Lupin could ever remember him being. His face had been almost purple, and his hands had been clenched so tightly on his desk that the knuckles were white. Finnegan angry was not a sight Lupin would soon forget, and even now, he didn't wish for a repeat of the man's temper, not even with his fears for his family on his mind.

"Sir," he started again. "I'm afraid I'm not feeling well. We had fresh juice this morning, and I'm afraid the oranges weren't quite ripe. My stomach has been churning ever since." With a quick prayer to Merlin, Lupin forced his forehead to pop out in beads of sweat, and hoped his face had paled to an unnatural shade of green as he'd intended. Luckily, Finnegan seemed to notice the change, but not that it was deliberate.

"Very well, Lupin. Take the afternoon off. It's obvious you will be of no help today, and I would rather not watch you sprint past my office to the toilet. It's nearly lunch. Just…" he faltered. "Just clock out early. Mind, I expect you to put in full effort tomorrow, and I expect to see you at your desk this weekend. Those reports won't be processed on their own. You may go."

Lyall stood gingerly, playing it up for his boss, and thanked him quietly. Eager to escape, but not willing to have Finnegan repeal his decision, Lupin shuffled to the door. A few steps down the hall, when he was sure Finnegan could no longer see him, Lyall stood up straighter, lengthened his stride and returned to his office to gather his briefcase and the research on werewolves he had been hording for weeks. He locked his office behind him and made his way to the Atrium, where he could then Apparate to home. As he turned around and tucked in, Hope's and Remus' face swam into his mind, and seconds later, he was stumbling into the clearing near his home. As he made his way up the walk, he could see Hope in the kitchen, and the weight on his shoulders eased a bit as he realized she hadn't left him.

When no small boy greeted him at the door, Lyall felt a moment's panic, until Hope appeared. "He's in his room. I didn't think you would want to have this conversation with him around, so I fed him some lunch and asked him to play quietly and not come out until I went to get him. We should keep our voices down- I think he heard quite a bit this morning." She turned and walked back to the kitchen, her spine straight and stiff, and Lyall nearly shivered at the cold voice she had spoken to him in. He set his briefcase down by the door and kicked off his shoes before he followed his wife, a feeling of dread settling in his belly. Hope stood at the sink, her back to him, and Lyall took a step towards her, hoping to give her a kiss and reassure both of them.

"Don't, Lyall. Just…. don't," she said, without turning around. Even though his wife was a muggle through and through, she had her own magic when it came to her husband. She didn't need to see his face or hear him speak to know his intention just then. Suddenly, Lupin was afraid. She was still here, but would she remain here, after this conversation? This was the second time in only a few hours she had asked him to keep his distance. He knew then that he had to tell her everything. All the research he had done, all the precautions he had taken. He had to make her understand that the safest place for her, and especially for Remus, was here, at home, with him.

Resigning himself to an unpleasant discussion, Lyall sat at the table, crossed his arms, and kept his mouth shut. He watched his wife, waiting for her to turn and face him, and wasn't surprised when he saw her shoulders stiffen even more before she finally turned and looked at him. Her usually soft and kind features had hardened over the last few hours. Lyall felt as though he were looking at his mother-in-law, who had hated him on sight, and who probably still hated him, years later. Hope's face was unsmiling, the corners of her lips drawn so tight she had wrinkles, not that he would tell her that. Her dark green eyes, usually full of laughter and smiles, were hard as emeralds and nearly black.

" _Well, quite honestly, her eyes match her voice,"_ Lyall thought to himself, wisely keeping that bit to himself. The more they watched each other, the more nervous Lyall grew, afraid that she was going to insist on taking the boy to her parents' home, even for just a day or two. The Hope looking back at him now barely resembled the woman who had promised their son pancakes just this morning. Time seemed to slow to a stop, and he hoped she would say something soon. He was afraid to take the lead, although he felt that he probably should. Eventually, he realized she was waiting for him to begin, and he swallowed sharply, hoping to dislodge the lump in his throat. He coughed once, fidgeted in his chair, and finally tipped his head in acknowledgement.

"Hope," he started, his voice soft and pleading. "Can I please explain things? I didn't do a very good job this morning, and there are things you need to know." She didn't say anything, but she did twitch her shoulder slightly, which Lyall took to mean that he could continue. Starting at the beginning, he explained again about Greyback, the circumstances around his interview and what led Lyall to believe he was right about Greyback's lycanthropy. Hope didn't interrupt, but when he got to the part about telling Drone that werewolves deserved no more than death, the color began leeching out of her face. She leaned against the counter for support and crossed her arms in front of her chest, but said nothing.

Lyall paused, waiting for her to recover, and only resumed his story when she flicked a short nod at him. As he was telling her about Zander in St. Mungo's and that the healers didn't think he would ever wake again, her knees buckled. Lyall jumped up quickly and was around the table so fast he didn't remember moving. He took Hope by the arm, offering her his strength and support, and helped her to the nearest chair. She still hadn't said anything, but a tear began its slow descent down her cheek. Lyall wanted to stop. He didn't want to tell her anymore, and it was several minutes before she raised her eyes to his.

"Please. Tell me you have a plan," came a ragged whisper. Lyall knelt beside her chair, one hand on the back of it, and the other on her knee. He looked into his wife's eyes, and felt his heart break when he saw the plea there. He cupped her cheek and stood so he could press his forehead against hers, an apology of sorts, and an attempt to settle himself before he got to the rest of it. He dragged another chair close to hers, and clasped her hands between his when he sat. He waited silently until she looked up at him, the green of her eyes now a brilliant emerald color softened by the water of her tears, and he was pleased to see that she was holding them back.

"Darling, if anything, I'm good at plans. I work with dark creatures all day, every day. Of course I have a plan," he said. He began to lay out for her all the research he had done, and explained what he had learned about the full moon. Werewolves transformed only when the moon was high in the sky, and spent that night in their wolf forms. By sun-up, they were transformed back into their human forms. Lycanthropy, the disease that caused the transformation, was permanent, he explained. There was no cure, and no way to prevent someone infected with it from turning into a beast once a month. He explained that often, adults who were bitten didn't survive, while the children who did survive were "turned". At that, she sucked in a breath, but didn't interrupt.

He described the charms he had been casting on their home and the immediate vicinity. "Remus is protected here. You and I are protected here, because of the magic I have been able to do. Being here is the safest place for all of us, it would be impossible to set up this level of protection with only today, if we were to go to your parents'," he said. "Greyback should not be able to get in. All the windows are sealed against intruders; there is a charm in place to let me know when people are close, and I've strengthened our shield as much as I possibly can. I charm the door at night when we go to bed; it will alert me if anyone opens it in the night. The best defense in this case is that we know he could be coming. And if he does, I'm ready for him. Hope, look at me," he said, his voice strong and steady.

"I will protect you and Remus with my life. You both are my world. Hope, you are my heart. And Remus is my soul. I promise you- that monster won't touch any of us."

Hope held eye contact with him for several moments, her eyes searching his. She thought about all of the things she didn't know and blamed herself- she had never really been interested in his magical side. She understood the basics of being a wizard, and what that meant for their family, and potentially Remus. She knew that Remus himself would grow up to be a wizard; he was already capable of simple charms to help clean his messes, and to do things like tie his shoes. Lyall had delighted in showing their son what their abilities could do. Many evenings she had watched as Lyall said a phrase and encouraged Remus to repeat it. The first time Remus moved his shoes onto the rug, Lyall had nearly burst with pride. He had smiled so hard his eyes had nearly disappeared, and tears of joy rolled down his cheeks as he ruffled Remus's hair and shouted "That's my boy!" over and over again. Feeling a pang in her heart, Hope shook herself to clear the cloud of memory, and met Lyall's eyes again.

"Ok, Lyall. Ok." Hope's fingers tightened on his, and she blinked, clearing the unshed tears from her eyes. Her face no longer had that pinched look so reminiscent of her disapproving mother, and even though Lyall knew she was terrified, he also knew that she trusted him.

"This doesn't mean I forgive you, Lyall. You should have told me when you came home that day. I've watched you struggle alone for a month. Do you know that you've lost weight, and that your hair is going gray? I've watched you fight this on your own, and that's not fair. I'm your wife, you should have trusted me." The word wife was nearly spat out at him, but Lyall didn't say anything. Hope had given him his say, now he needed to give her hers.

"After tonight," she continued, "you and I have more talking to do. We have to figure out what to tell Remus, how to explain things for him. And I think, I really think, that we should consider moving. This Greyback sounds frighteningly resourceful. If you're placing all these charms and spells on our home, it makes me think that you think he could find us here. After we make it through tonight, we need to figure out our next step. Together, Lyall, because I'm your wife. Together."

By the time Hope was finished, the crushing weight on his shoulders had nearly disappeared. The pit in his stomach was still there, and the fear he felt deep in his heart that this monster would come for him was still nearly suffocating. But she and the boy were staying. The three of them would continue to be a family, and that felt better than anything had in the last month. Unsure of what to say, he stood, pulling Hope with him. This time when he stepped towards her, she settled into his embrace. He wrapped his arms around her shoulders and dipped his head towards hers, and simply held her. He smiled when he felt her arms go around his waist and tightened his grip into a hug.

"Oh Lyall," she said, her voice muffled by his shoulder. She breathed in deeply and held it for a moment, before exhaling a shaky breath. "I'm so scared." He lifted his head and looked down at her. When she lifted her eyes to his he said "I am too, darling. I am too." He pressed his lips to her forehead, squeezed once more, and pulled back.

"We need to speak to Remus. I hope that you will let me try to explain things." Hope nodded, and looked like she was going to speak again. He was surprised, therefore, when instead she rose up on her toes and met his mouth with hers.

The kiss was fierce and demanding. Hope's lips pressed hard against his, and held there for a few seconds. He felt her hands slide up his back and fist themselves in his robes, and she tilted her head, changing the angle of the kiss. Lyall cupped one hand behind her head, settled the other at her waist, and returned the pressure. Slowly, the kiss softened, then deepened, and soon, Hope's tongue was gently prodding his lips. Surprised, but not displeased, he accepted her invitation, stepping against her and slowly pushing her back towards the counter. When she bumped up against it, she groaned into his mouth, and brought one hand up to dive into his hair.

Their kiss continued, tongues dancing and their lips sliding smoothly against each other's. Lyall and Hope allowed themselves to get lost for a few moments, both still afraid, but also relieved that neither was alone. Lyall's hand skimmed up her side, until it gently cupped a breast. Hope started at the contact, and broke their kiss, panting as her eyes met his. Lyall watched as the fog cleared from the emerald colored eyes he loved, and struggled to control his breath.

"We can't, Lyall. Not now. I'm still hurt, and terrified, and just… not now. I'm sorry," Hope apologized. She slipped her arms from around his waist and scooted past him, heading for the stairs.

Lyall stood for a second, trying to calm himself and processing what had just happened. When he had left work today, he had not imagined that conversation ending in one of the most passionate kisses of his marriage. His heart was still racing. Hope hadn't ever kissed him like that, not in the lust fueled days of their courtship, not even on their wedding night. After a kiss like that, he had to believe that they would make it through this. Feeling lighter than he had felt in weeks, he grinned to himself and followed his wife up the stairs to see his son.


	5. Innocence Lost

Remus was napping when his parents finally made their way up the stairs. His mum had asked him to play quietly, and since he had promised his papa that he would be good, he did as she asked. He really wanted to sneak down the stairs to listen, but papa always told him that breaking promises was for cowards, and Remus wanted to be brave. So, even though he heard the loud crack of his papa's Apparation and wanted nothing more than to run down the stairs and throw himself at the man, he stayed in his room. He had played with all his toys- the little rolling truck his mother had given him, his toy wand, and the teddy bear that went everywhere with him. He had looked through his picture books, and tried to read one of the bedtime stories that mum liked, but he couldn't put all the letters together yet. It seemed like his parents were taking an awfully long time to talk. He knew that Papa was worried, and he knew that after this morning, his mum was very sad.

Remus had tried to make her laugh after Papa had left, but she had only smiled sadly at him when he showed her a cartwheel. Remus was worried. In all his short life, he didn't remember his parents every having such scary faces when looking at each other. One time, he remembered seeing his mum looking like that- all scary and pinched like Granny. But that was because the rabbits had gotten into her garden and ate up all the green tops. Remus didn't ever want his mother to look at him like that. As the little boy tried to figure out how to make his mother laugh again, he grew sleepy.

He had been playing quietly for a long time, far longer than any boy of almost five could possibly do on his own. Disgruntled now, and anxious to see his father, Remus grabbed his teddy by an arm and clambered up onto his bed. He screwed up his face and concentrated real hard like Papa always told him to when he was learning magic, and tried to wish himself down into the kitchen. Remus tried several times, growing more and more frustrated when he opened his eyes and saw he was still sitting on his bed. Remus pulled his teddy up to his chest, muttered "It's not fair!" and put his head down.

Playing quietly was hard work, and Remus was suddenly very tired. His head slowly drifted down, and soon, small boy and battered teddy were nestled in a cozy ball on top of a red wool blanket, and the only sound in the room was the gentle snoring of nearly five-year-old boy. He didn't stir when his parents finally came into his room, and only snuggled in deeper when he was covered with a blanket from the closet. He smiled slightly in his sleep as a hand passed over his head, but he was so deeply asleep that he didn't hear the whispered voice say "Let's leave him, Hope. We can talk with him later."

Some time later, Remus came awake with a start. He had felt something funny, almost like someone was watching him. His head came up, and the boy glanced around his room. All his toys were where he had left them, and Teddy was face down on the bed, so it wasn't him. Slowly, his eyes shifted to the door. It was open a couple inches, which he thought was odd. When Mum had asked him to stay in his room, she had closed the door completely. Remus knew it was because she wanted to be able to hear if he opened it- the door squeaked loudly when it moved. He was pretty sure it had still been closed when he fell asleep.

A little worried now, he glanced at the window, and was shocked to see that it was dark. He wondered why his parents hadn't woken him, and then a loud growl came from somewhere in the room. Remus giggled- apparently he hadn't eaten in a while, and his tummy monster was hungry. He sat up quickly and was confused when his blanket slid down. "Mum must have come to see me," he thought to himself, and smiled as he vaguely remembered a hand stroking his head.

Grabbing Teddy by the arm again, he scooted off the bed. When he hit the floor, he was reminded of something else he hadn't done in a while, and made his way to the loo first. When he reached his parents' room, he glanced in, and was surprised to see that both Papa and Mum were asleep. Torn between the need to relieve himself, feed the monster in his belly, and cuddle with his parents, he paused for a few seconds. The most prominent need made its presence known again, so Remus scampered through his parents' room to the toilet. He made quick work of his task, and remembered to flush the toilet, put the seat down and wash his hands, just like Mum always told him to. Scooping up Teddy once more, Remus decided to head down to the kitchen.

It wasn't like mum to forget to feed him, but he wanted to show his parents that he was a big boy and could handle it, and decided to make himself a sandwich. He went quietly down the steps, careful to avoid the one that creaked in the center, and wandered into the kitchen. He glanced at the window above the sink, and saw that the moon was beginning to peak out. Remus loved the moon; it was so pretty at night. Where they lived, so far away from the city, the moon was so bright that he didn't need a light to see outside. As the clouds moved, he saw that it was his favorite moon- a full circle. Suddenly, he didn't feel so hungry. He felt himself pulled by the moon, and crossed to the back door.

Remus knew that he shouldn't go outside without his parents, especially at night, but tonight was special. He didn't often get to see the whole moon, and he told himself that he wouldn't go any farther than the porch. And besides, he had Teddy with him. Papa had told him that Teddy was special, like he and Papa were special. He said that Teddy had magic, and would keep him safe as long as Remus loved him and took him along everywhere. Teddy was his very best friend, and Papa never lied, so Teddy went everywhere. Remus listened closely to make sure his parents were still sleeping, and slowly opened the door. When the crack was wide enough for him to slip through, he stopped, listening again. It was still very quiet in the house, so he slipped through and pulled the door almost closed behind him.

Remus took a couple steps away from the door, and sat down at the edge of the porch. His little legs dangled over the side as he pulled Teddy into his lap. "Look, Teddy. See the moon?" The little boy pointed up into the sky, feeling happy and relaxed for the first time all day.

"Gee Teddy," he said. "I could sit here all night. The moon and the stars are so pretty! Papa says the stars are the great wizards that have died. He says that when they die, they turn into stars, and they keep watch over the wizard world and keep us safe." The boy kept his voice low, not wanted to wake his parents and spoil this special, secret moment. Remus felt his body settling as he counted the stars high above his head.

"I think I'm going to ask Mum to put stars on my ceiling," Remus told Teddy. "Maybe if I can see the stars, it will help next time she tells me to play quietly." He laughed a little bit, enjoying his stolen moment of freedom. It was so quiet here in the woods, and there wasn't any wind on this night. It was awfully cold though, being February and all, so Remus decided he would go back in soon. As he gathered Teddy and stood up, a sound caught his attention. It was loud and sounded like the crack his Papa made when he came home. Remus was confused; Papa was upstairs, in bed and asleep. The small boy looked out towards the trees, trying to see where the sound had come from. He started backing up toward the door, and only made it one shuffling step when something stepped out of the woods toward him.

The moon was so bright that Remus could see a long, low shape making its way across the yard towards him. He was only a couple steps away from the door, and safety, but was too scared to move. He had been outside at night before, but had never seen any creatures this close to his house. Papa had always warned him that some scary animals lived in the woods, and that he wasn't to come outside without Mum or Papa with him. The moon had been so pretty though, and he couldn't help it. He had wanted to see it.

But now, with that thing, whatever it was, stalking across the yard at him, Remus was terrified. As the creature got closer, Remus saw its eyes flash in the moonlight. They were bright and golden, and Remus felt a ball of ice form where his tummy monster had been growling only a few minutes earlier. Suddenly, the creature stepped out of the shadows, and Remus screamed. The wolf was big and shaggy and gray, like the wolf in Mum's story book, the wolf that gave him nightmares whenever she read that story too close to bedtime. Remus turned to run back into the house; it wasn't very far, but he didn't make it.

The boy heard the crashing of the wolf as it crossed the yard and leapt at the porch. He heard the wind whistle behind him and screamed again as something caught at his pants. Remus dropped Teddy as he fell; whatever had caught him was dragging him backwards towards the edge of the porch.

"PAPA! PAPA HELP! PAPAAAAA!" Remus screamed as loud as he could, his voice shrill and terrified. "PAPA!" he yelled one last time before his fingers scrabbled at the edge of the porch. There was nothing left to hold anymore, and suddenly Remus was flying through the air. The wolf had hooked his pant leg with one of his giant, yellow claws, and when Remus slid off the porch, he was hung upside down as the wolf stood on its hind legs, the claws of one massive paw gripping his pant leg. Remus opened his mouth to scream again when he came face to face with the beast of his nightmares, the golden eyes boring into his own.

Before he got a sound out, the wolf dropped him. Remus hit the ground so hard, his breath whooshed out, and he couldn't catch it back. Panting and panicked now, Remus tried to scramble for the stairs. He nearly made it, but the wolf lunged, sinking his sharp teeth into Remus's tattered pant leg. The wolf began backing up, dragging the struggling boy with him. Finally, Remus was able to suck in enough air to scream for his father again, but by then, the wolf was almost at the trees. Remus looked back at the wolf and pulled at his leg, desperate to get away, terrified of what was happening. He looked back to the house, desperately wishing for his Papa, and just before he was pulled into the trees, his heart leapt. PAPA! His Papa was coming. Remus yelled again "Papa, save me. Please Papa! PLEASE!" as he was dragged into the brush.

The wolf had noticed Lyall as well. It had been curiously quiet so far, but the moment Lyall hit the ground, the wolf began snarling. The sound terrified the small boy trapped in its jaws, who began crying earnestly. He heard his father coming; he could hear the curses and spells Lyall was yelling as he ran. Remus began to hope that he would be ok, that Papa would save him, and that this was all just a really bad dream. He looked through the trees, and could see flashes of light coming from Papa's wand as he got closer, and Remus cried out for him again. Papa was so close! Remus risked a glance back at the wolf when the pressure on his leg pulled away, and realized his Papa wasn't going to make it.

The wolf was poised above him, its jaws open, saliva dripping off its sharp teeth, snarling and growling as it watched the man get closer. When Lyall was close enough to see his son, the wolf's head came down. Remus watched, mesmerized, as the snout came closer, watched the jaws open wide and the teeth snap once before they sunk into his shoulder. The reaction was instant and excruciating. Remus screamed, the pain blooming in a white-hot blaze. He screamed and screamed as the teeth let go and pulled back. He screamed again as he watched the head descend a second time and by the time the teeth closed once more near his ribs, Remus had no breath left to scream. The last sight Remus had before his mind shut everything off was of his father, and the red sparks shooting out of his wand as he came, too late to save him.

" _Everte Statum! Defrodio! Petrificus Totalis!"_ Lyall shouted curse after curse as he crossed the yard, flicking his wand with each one as he watched the werewolf savage his son. His heart was racing, and he felt it shatter as Greyback lifted his head a second time. His son's blood stained the wolf's mouth, and Lyall was so thrown by the sight that he stumbled. His last curse missed his target, and Greyback took advantage of Lyall's stumble to turn and run. By the time Lyall righted himself, the wolf was just barely visible.

The moon shone through a break in the trees, and as Lyall watched, Greyback stepped into it, howled loudly and snarled. The golden eyes met his, and Lyall would swear later that the wolf laughed. He launched one final Stupify hex that missed, and dropped to his knees beside his son. Lyall's heart was in pieces, and with one look at the boy, he turned and emptied his stomach into the grass. When he was done retching, he heard a crack among the branches littering the ground behind him.

"Hope! Don't come any closer. Please, don't. Let me… I can fix this. Let me fix it first. Please!" he begged, crying. Quickly, Lyall tore the shirt his son was wearing and set about staunching the blood with his wand. He conjured bandages and began to wrap them around Remus's torso. His shoulder was mangled so badly he could see bone, and the second bite under his ribs was deep and bleeding profusely. "Hope, I need to take him to St. Mungo's. He needs more help than I can give him." With a last glance at his wife, he scooped the boy into his arms and Apparated. The last thing he heard was his wife's cry as her son vanished.

Lyall and Remus arrived outside St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries in London, and Lyall wasted no time. He burst through the window of Purge and Dowse and shouted for the healer. "I need help! My son has been attacked, he's only four! I need help!" His voice was hoarse after shouting curses at Greyback, and it took a few moments before someone arrived to help him. A floating stretcher was conjured and two more healers joined the first.

Soon, Lyall was left alone in the intake room as Remus was carted away for emergency treatment on the first floor. Lyall felt sick. His boy, his precious boy! After all the precautions he had taken, Greyback had still gotten his revenge. And Hope… Merlin, Hope! Lyall raced up to the first floor, hoping to see where they had taken Remus, but there was no one at the desk. He ran down the hall, shouting for the healer, and a small witch emerged from a room at the end of the corridor.

She met him at the door and said "Sir, I understand. Truly I do, but you must let us work. His bites are very deep, and very serious. He is still alive, but we need to try to keep him that way. I'm sorry. I need to you to wait out here." With a quick squeeze of his hand, the healer retreated and closed the door behind her.

Lyall was left alone in the hall, his arms empty, and his heart broken, ashamed of himself and worried for his son. He watched the shadows crossing behind the door through the glass and realized they wouldn't tell him anything any time soon. With one last look at the window, he turned and jogged back up the hallway. He went down to intake and out the window of Purge and Drowse. No one was around, so he said a quick prayer and Apparated back home, back to Hope. To this new life of parents to a werewolf, and that was only if Remus survived. "And if he doesn't?" Lyall's heart thumped and he brushed the thought away, too afraid to think anything but that his son would survive.

Lyall arrived with a loud crack, landing just outside the clearing near his home. He ran through the trees and bounded up the steps to the house shouting for his wife. "Hope! Hope, please love, I need you. Hope!" He pulled up short in the kitchen- Hope was sitting at the table. She looked dreadful. He could see that she'd had been crying. Her face was red and splotchy, and so many tears had fallen that there was a small pool in front of her. She wasn't crying now, though.

Instead, her face had taken on a sad sheen, her eyes unfocused, her breathing slow and regular. In her hands was Remus's blood-soaked shirt. She was gripping it tightly, so tightly that her hands were white-knuckled. Lyall stepped closer to her, reached out a hand and covered hers. Her fingers were cold as ice. She didn't register his touch, didn't acknowledge his presence in anyway. "Hope," he whispered. "Hope, darling. Hope?" He kept trying, keeping his voice soft and even, and caressing her hand with his as he spoke. Still she gave no sign that she even knew he was there. "Hope," he breathed. "Hope, I am so, so sorry. Oh Hope. Our boy! Hope, please," he begged, his voice going up several octaves, tears threatening to overwhelm him. Finally, she turned her head. Her eyes still had that slightly unfocused look to them, but eventually they settled on his face.

"This is your fault." The tone was so cold, so even, so dead, that Lyall's heart broke all over again. Hope didn't look at him again. She turned her face back to the shirt in her hands, and turned it over and over. The shirt was saturated in their son's blood, and her hands were stained red. Lyall tried to reach out to take it from her and her grip tightened. She didn't turn her head, refused to look at him, but she did speak again. "Don't you DARE touch his things! This is YOUR FAULT! My son is dead and it's YOUR FAULT!" The vehemence in her tone brought Lyall's head up sharply. "Remus is my son too, Hope, and he isn't dead. We need to go." Lyall's tone matched Hope's as he grabbed her hands and pulled her up. "We need to go; you need to hold on to me." Lyall led his wife outside to the edge of the clearing, put an arm around her, said a quick prayer to Merlin and Apparated back to London.

Travel in this way was new to Hope, who had previously refused to experience anything too wizard-like. Even so, she said nothing as they landed outside Purge and Dowse. She still hadn't looked at him, refusing to acknowledge his touch. Her shoulders were stiff and when Lyall reached out to place his hand on her back as they entered the storefront, she pulled away. Lyall felt the gulf between them, but had no idea how to bridge it. As they stepped through the entrance to St. Mungo's, he realized that he might not ever be able to. "This way, Hope. He's upstairs." Together, they stepped into the lift and went to see their son.


End file.
